


Seasalt In The Wound

by purpleinkblot



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, I don't know what to tag this as, Minor Violence, blood caste accents, just all around mean spirited, minor blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4396352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleinkblot/pseuds/purpleinkblot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort-of collaboration with a friend of mine. </p><p>The Sufferer's entourage is finally captured after years of escaping highblood tyranny. Upon being arrested to be brought to the Condesce, the mutant meets someone he'd rather have gone his whole life never knowing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasalt In The Wound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarch/gifts).



> The initial prompt was made by tumblr user lunarch-sounds, the story was written by me.

If it weren’t for the unwelcoming dipping of the waves beneath him, then surely the jerking tug of the rope around his wrists would have made him sick. Impatient. That's what these highbloods were. Even if he clearly was hobbling on one leg up the gangplank, he was pushed and shoved regardless.

The mutant was being transported to the one place he knew he would never return from. After sweeps of being hunted, the highbloods had finally caught up with him and his family. And after nearly apprehending them so many times, they came prepared with more than they could handle. The decrepit, hollowed hive they had found shelter in had been burned down, flushing them out at separate ends and catching them off guard. Once captured, they were to be transported to the Condesce on separate vessels.

How ever did they expect them to escape? They were outnumbered and being shipped back through the ocean of all ways. It seemed unnecessary. But he figured that after so many escapes, the empire wanted to take no chances. So there he was, all but hopping reluctantly to the deck, presumably to be tied and locked in a cage somewhere until they reached the mainland. If the scenario hadn’t been one that was reminding him of his imminent death, he may have found the length of the trip to be irritating. Instead he was praying in hopes that whatever hole or broom closet they threw him into, he would be left alone for the rest of the way.

The scarlet’s focus returned when the previously unnoticed support from the others around him was taken away, forcing him to lean on his fractured leg. Not being able to tolerate the strain for very long, he adjusted himself onto his knees on the floor. It was worse like this. The position made him feel vulnerable, not that he was able to run if he tried. The ship itself was also unsettling. It was huge, much bigger than the one he and his group would travel on. The rigging seemingly stretched upwards for miles, and the rail was stained in different colors.

 Just as he was wondering who it was that would be all-but dragging him to the Empress, the crowd separated for someone emerging from the back. Unlike the other trolls –whose mostly black clothes made them hard to differentiate- this one was quite brazenly different. His hue was spread throughout his entirety, coupled together with gold bands here and there, something that was only fashioned by sea dwellers. Dark purple trenchant armor was cut in an odd, albeit intimidating way. Everything from the cape to the horns seemed to be giving off an air of nobility and the insistence not to approach. The Signless could only assume that this was the one in charge. He silently hoped that he’d stay as quiet and still as the crowd had gotten. But of course, that was ridiculous. He just had to say something.  

 

"Well...this is disappointing."

 

A sigh laced the Orphaner's words as he tapped one foot down, peering at the crumpled body beneath him. _This_ was the legendary leader of the rebellion? It had taken the empire sweeps to catch _him_? He was at least half his size, if not smaller, and had no special attributes. Surely the mariner could have brought him in himself if he wasn't already bound to his important duty. He was honestly hoping for someone bigger, more intimidating. It would have made his capture feel all the more rewarding. But this was just a wriggler, dead weight on an otherwise perfect vessel. What a waste of his time.

 

"I-I..." the mutant sputtered.

 

"I-I? I what? Speak up boy! I can barely understand your accent as it is!"

 

 _As is with me!_ The Signless wanted to say. Being raised by his troll lusus meant being taught a string of dialects spoken by redbloods to those of the coolest teal. That was to be expected, having worked with the wriggler hatchlings and mother lusus for so long. But the language of sea dwellers was something else entirely. The sounds emitted were to be better heard underwater. And he was pretty sure some of them couldn't be imitated by land dwellers.

 

When he didn't respond to the question, he heard the bigger troll click his tongue and make his way forward.

 

"Do you want to go for a swim? Let's go for a swim!" He said, pulling him by the hood -grabbing his hair along with it- and dragging him to the edge of the ship.

 

"You see here? This is _my_ domain. You cannot influence yourself on the cruelty of the sea!"

 

The pitch black of the horizon melted together with the green and pink illuminated sky. The moons sparkled down onto the waves in near transparent flickers. Beyond that there was no light, and the mysterious ecosystem of lusii and sea dwellers was hidden from sight.

 

"What would happen if you were to stick your head down there, hmm?"

 

 

The fingers twisted in his hair were yanked forward, dragging him over the edge and into the paralyzing cold water. He couldn’t be serious. Was he really going to be drowned before even making it to the Empress? Surely even someone in his position could be punished for that! But every second he was submerged seemed it near possible, and the chill of the water was like pinpricks to his skin. But no, he wouldn't be drowned. Just battered more for the hell of it. The Condesce most likely would just laugh, maybe even be indifferent about his treatment. Either way, it was clear that more suffering was to come in the near future.

 

When he was finally pulled back up, inhaling came as a struggle from the awkwardly bent angle his neck was subjected to be in. Laughter could be heard in the background over the strained coughing. After only seconds, his head was dunked back into the inky abyss far too quickly.

 

“What’s that? Can you not breathe? Anyway…can you hear it? Hear _Her_? The Mistress herself…” the Orphaner asked loud enough to be heard beneath the water.

 

The Mistress?

 

Oh.

 

The existence of Gl’bgolyb was doubted to be true by most land dwellers. A gargantuan lusus that devoured its own kind in one bite and could destroy the world couldn’t possibly be real. The Signless admitted that a part of him didn’t believe it either. The Condesce had never shown any proof of its existence. It could have very well been a scare tactic. But the sea dweller had asked in so much confidence. No doubt or lying tone could be heard in his voice. If his nose hadn’t been so bruised, perhaps the mutant could have smelled the faint, foul odor that lingered on the deck. It was the smell of flesh and decay, too pungent to be completely cleaned from the stained wood.

When his head was pulled up a second time, he was turned to face his captor dead on. No light was visible enough to see the features of his face. Only a sliver of violet from his eyes was clear in the redblood’s unfocused vision.

 

“You know, to someone like me, the whispers of the Emissary are like a song. But it’s said that it drives land dwellers insane. It ravages your mind from the inside out. So much so that you feel you can’t die quick enough. If you heard that song all the way to the Empress, do you think you’ll go mad?”

 

Signless looked down at water, still coughing and trying to catch his breath. He almost missed the question. Could a lusus’ voice drive him mad when they’re supposed to be nurturing creatures- these guardians and mentors that protect their grubs with their lives? The Condesce supposedly grew with one that lived fathoms beneath her. She ruled the planet uninterrupted, never even visiting her silenced mother. Could that have been the blossoming source of her cruelty? He had never considered it before.

 

He looked up again at the troll who had now released his grip on his scalp. He realized just what kind of job this man was saddled with. And if his position was in fact real, then he was exposed to her frightening call almost constantly. If what he said was true, he got closer to the beast than anyone else. Her demands would repeat whenever he reached her. The constant deliverance of food that she for some reason could ‘t obtain on her own.

No, surely it wasn’t the mutant who had been going mad; at least, not the _scarlet_ mutant. Only the one who evolved in a different way, the one with spiny ears and gills and terrible vision out of the water. His mutation granted him a life of privilege. He was special, whilst the redblood was poison on the nation.

 

Hypocrites. That’s what these highbloods were.

 

Still, with his position came misguided servitude as well. Feeding the beast was a job that made one feel more empowered than they actually were. The feeling superiority and being feared was the perfect fog to mask how much freedom one would actually lose. That much was evident. The floorboards were worn in spots where he had paced back and forth dreading the slower days. Was he even allowed on land? When was the last time he had slept? Did anyone else do this job? How many other trolls spent their lives in the limbo between the land and undersea worlds, finding their only worth in how big a creature they could drag down with them?  

 

Suddenly a sharp slap to the face shook him from his daze. The blow had struck his nose, causing blood to fly out onto the sea dweller’s cape. Almost instantly the blood sunk into the dark material, dying it a darker hue from its original eye-irritating shade. It became a color that was normal; a color that, if he had been hatched with it, wouldn’t have him in this position.

 

“What is that pathetic look? Are you not going to answer me?” the Orphaner asked impatiently. He growled and shoved the other to the side.

 

“For someone who’s caused so much trouble babbling, it’s amazing you would decide to keep your mouth shut now.” He rose from his position and moved into the crowd.

 

 “Lock him up. I don't want to see his face again until we get back.”

 

* * *

 

 

Down below in the hold –though luckily not in a cage- the silent messiah flexed his fingers in the squeezing grasp of the irons he was held in. He tried to imagine that they weren’t shackles at all; but the firm grip of his lusus holding him angrily near her when he had strayed too far from her hip.

 

“If you wander too far from me something could happen to you. I don’t want you to get hurt. Don’t leave my side again, ok?” she would say, soothing his hair with her hand.

 

“If you stay close to me, nothing bad will happen to you.”

 

Maybe he _was_ going mad.

 


End file.
